


Fragile Things

by theskywasblue



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, M/M, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-09
Updated: 2010-09-09
Packaged: 2017-10-11 15:25:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/113870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theskywasblue/pseuds/theskywasblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hakkai couldn't explain the most honest and valid reason that this was the worst idea in their long history of bad ideas both independent and shared, without betraying how very badly he wanted every <i>second</i> of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fragile Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lauand](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=lauand).



Gojyo was drunk.

Actually, he was worse than drunk - he was sloppy and warm and mouthing enthusiastically though not without skill at the side of Hakkai's neck - and Hakkai, who had imbibed more than a little himself, but was as ever far from truly inebriated, was quite shocked at how difficult he was finding it to resist the obvious invitation.

In fact, the invitation was obvious the way a gaping wound is obvious - raw and open, warm and wet – Gojyo breathed out his desire in a long string of filthy and slightly desperate slurred words against Hakkai's skin. Hakkai truly wanted to resist - kept feverishly reminding Gojyo of as many reasons as he could think of not to do this; like the fact that Sanzo and Goku's room was right next door and the walls of backwater inns are notoriously thin or the fact that Gojyo was very, very shockingly drunk and would almost certainly regret everything in the morning. Failing that, there was the undeniable fact that they were both men and beyond that they were _friends_, not anonymous strangers meeting in a seedy bar; anything that happened – everything that happened – would not vanish at dawn.

But the shame of it was that Hakkai couldn't explain the most honest and valid reason that this was the worst idea in their long history of bad ideas both independent and shared, without betraying how very badly he wanted every _second_ of it.

Hakkai quite treasured his inhibitions, and for good reason. They kept him first and foremost from acts of mass homicide; but they also kept him from doing a myriad of slightly less vicious and cruel things - primary among them breaking Gojyo's heart.

For all its appearances, Gojyo's heart was really such a fragile thing, and Hakkai did not do well with fragile things. He was very much the man who would crush the dove, rather than risk it flying away.

"Hakkai..."

Gojyo's thick, anxious voice drew him in, and despite his best efforts Hakkai finally lost his battle to avoid touching their lips together, found a liquor-sweet and heavy tongue sliding against his own, entreaties pushed into the cavern of his mouth, echoing in the back of his throat. He tried to shift his stance and ease Gojyo away, but even hopelessly drunk Gojyo had a knack for anticipating his moves, he used his body to trap Hakkai, rubbing against him, chasing friction against Hakkai's thigh as his mouth broke away and left a messy, wet smear over Hakkai's jaw along with the words "C'mon" and "Please."

"You won't remember this in the morning," was the best, last, attempt Hakkai could make at averting what he was sure would be an unmitigated disaster in its aftermath - for him if not for Gojyo, whose memory he both hoped and feared would be expunged by the alcohol in his veins.

"I will," Gojyo insisted, fumbling with the clasps on Hakkai's shirt, then foregoing the matter entirely and pushing his hands up underneath, hot, urgent and just the right amount of rough on Hakkai's skin. "I never forgot."

Hakkai was sure he meant something about previous encounters, frantic and anonymous with other partners in other places at other times; but there was something about those words, slurred though they were, something about the brightness in Gojyo's eyes and the neediness of his hands, that stuck into the back of Hakkai's mind like a pin, pricking at something that may or may not have truly been there, leaving a word Hakkai could not articulate – perhaps even a _name_ trapped on the back of his tongue.

And then Gojyo's lips and tongue, teeth and hands, banished the sensation, and instead it was Hakkai who forgot.

-End-


End file.
